Throughout the 16 years Sam and Jill Giberga have been married, Sam has not-so-subtly hinted he would really love a surprise party. So, when the Covington attorney’s 43rd birthday was about to roll around, Jill started thinking of ways to make his wish come true. There was one major drawback, however, to a traditional surprise party: Jill doesn’t like them.

Perhaps because she’s a smart lawyer herself, Jill also realized there’s no law that the “surprise” in surprise party has to mean guests jumping out from behind sofas wearing silly hats. In fact, the clever alternative she concocted to that stale old scene was one of the biggest surprises of all.

Inspired by the recent improvements to their property on the Bogue Falaya River, Jill invited a dozen of Sam’s best buddies to their home for a River Shack Raising. The plan was that Sam and his friends would actually construct a primitive structure—a river shack—with some considerably less-grueling diversions mixed into the itinerary, as well. Never mind that when it came to working with tools, Sam and most of the invitees, in the fond description of their hosts, were “basically inept.”

An interesting discovery

The beginning of the River Shack saga goes all the way back to New Orleans, where, until a year and a half ago, the Tulane law school sweethearts happily lived uptown with their children: Sophie, 13; Samuel, 9; and Joseph, 4.

“We loved our life there, and the kids loved their school,” explains Jill. But in June 2004, Sam accepted a position as general counsel of Hornbeck Offshore Services in Covington, requiring a move to the northshore. “I said that if we’re going to move, let’s do something totally different for the kids.”

After searching unsuccessfully for large acreage in Folsom, the couple was delighted to find their Covington house, set on six acres of riverfront property just two minutes from Highway 190. When the family arrived, the river frontage was overgrown and nearly inaccessible. But one day, while Sophie and her grandfather were exploring, they discovered a concrete slab on a bluff, overlooking a secluded bend in the river. Further investigation revealed it was the site of a former camp, long since washed away.

“Ever since they found the slab, we talked about building a little shack in the woods by the river,” Jill says. “We just wanted a tin roof and a bunch of screens—something to keep the mosquitoes away.” Shortly thereafter, the Gibergas began to tame enough of the thick vegetation to create a path to the slab. Then, after Jill came up with the idea of the River Shack Raising as the birthday celebration, all they had to do was figure out how many lawyers—and executives, bankers, businessmen and airline pilots—it takes to build a river shack.

Calling all “builders”

The invitations wittily mimicked a legal contract for services. The legalese went something like this: “Your anticipated contribution of time and talent to this endeavor is decidedly not tax-deductible, as you will receive as quid pro quo marginally tasty food, booze drink and merely adequate lodging, the value of which, while paltry, will likely far exceed the fruits of your labor. What you can expect, however, is the priceless company of other similarly amusing dear friends who share a fascination with power tools and a reckless disregard for their own safety.”

The guest list consisted of Sam’s old buddies from New Orleans, some new northshore friends and the couple’s fathers. The response was enthusiastic, even if the respondents weren’t exactly sure what they were getting into. “Before the party,” Jill recalls, “they were calling and asking, ‘Does Sam actually think we are going to build this thing? Because none of us knows how to do this.’”
With the date fast approaching, Sam and Jill got a bit rattled themselves. In something of a panic, they called well-known Covington contractor Steve Owens to ask if he knew a carpenter who would be willing to come out and supervise the project.

As it turned out, Owens had spent a summer many years ago touring Pennsylvania, observing Amish barn-raisings. He was so taken with the Gibergas’ unusual idea that he offered his own services. Owens not only sketched out some rough plans, he also devised a list of materials and delivered them, pre-cut and numbered, to the job site. All the guys had to do was fit the pieces together like a puzzle.

Getting to work

The work weekend kicked off with a relaxing Friday night of dinner and socializing. Before retreating to her parents’ house with the kids, Jill, with some onsite help from family friend Gwen Penn, served her grandmother’s shrimp étouffée on the back patio. The weather was picture perfect. Two musicians from the Abita Springs Opry provided musical entertainment. The group sat around the fire until late in the evening, smoking cigars and, according to Sam, enjoying great conversation.

Needless to say, six o’clock came pretty early the next morning, when the guys awoke to croissants from Zoe’s Bakery. Then it was off to work. “They worked from sunup to sundown,” Jill says proudly. “They never stopped once.” (Except, that is, for a takeout lunch of po-boys from Bear’s deli.)

During the weekend, a few mishaps became running jokes amongst the group. There was “Ratchet Rob,” for instance, who earned his nickname by complaining that a ratchet was broken, when in reality he wasn’t using it correctly. Before the weekend was over, Ratchet Rob was showing other people how to wield the tool. And then there was the infamous awl, which broke just as they were getting ready to drive the last nail into the roof, prompting Chuck to brag that he was the only participant who gave his “awl” to the project. (Groans).

Jill planned a relaxing evening to reward the crew for a hard day’s work. First was a wine tasting, presented by Mark Pelletier from Martin’s Wine Cellar. Next, freelance chef Kaysey McCloughlin whipped up some pretty fair fare for a bunch of hungry workingmen. The menu featured an appetizer of crawfish in phyllo with red pepper saffron coulis; a green thumb salad with lime and cane vinaigrette; and petite filet of beef with garlic roasted new potatoes, asparagus and spicy carrot ribbons. A decadent dessert of organic carrot, hazelnut and Frangelico cake with white chocolate cream cheese icing capped the feast. Again, the friends finished the night under the stars, swapping stories and puffing on stogies.

The biggest surprise

Six o’clock Sunday morning, the tired but determined Team River Shack was back at it. By early afternoon, when the crew’s wives and children gathered at the Gibergas’ for a barbecue catered by Sweet Daddy’s, the River Shack was a fait accompli. Standing some 20 x 20 feet, the finished product was a sturdy, professional-looking screened structure.

Surprisingly, and perhaps even more important, the completed River Shack was an unexpected source of pride to everyone involved.

When the Gibergas invited Sam’s friends to the River Shack Raising, Jill recalls, “They all thought we meant come and party and maybe nail a few things. But at some point in the weekend, it changed. At some point, they really got into it and it became something more. They realized they could actually build something worthwhile.”

In retrospect, the couple says, that sense of accomplishment and camaraderie may have been the most rewarding aspect of the whole weekend. “The ‘surprise’ was that we were actually able to build this thing,” Sam notes appreciatively. “Jill envisioned the whole thing. She saw how she could give me the gift of sharing an accomplishment with my friends. It was all great.”

Of course, the Gibergas also gained a pretty great place to relax and reminisce about Sam’s unforgettable 43rd birthday. Simply furnished with a couple of twig chairs and some hanging candelabras, the River Shack is ideal for chilling out with a glass of wine or playing family games by candlelight. One of the very few decorative elements is a 2-by-4 signed by the construction crew.

“Actually having the structure is lagniappe,” says Jill. “I can’t tell you what an experience this was in terms of friendship for these guys. These are successful people who have a lot to be proud of, but they all left here feeling so proud of themselves for a different reason. After that weekend, they couldn’t stop e-mailing each other about it.”

So, does this mean Jill is off the hook as far as a surprise party goes? Sam hesitates just long enough for a big, mischievous grin to spread across his face.

“No.”